


Her Relationship with the L-word

by yamihere



Series: Things We Do [6]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Conversations, Issues, Project, Reader just wanted to work on a project, Reader-Insert, she emotionally diarrheas on someone she doesn't really know, strangers to friends?, talking about love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamihere/pseuds/yamihere
Summary: You go from talking about a project to talking about relationships. You get to know a deeper piece of her quicker than you've gotten to know your friends.akaWelcome to "we were supposed to do a project but let me throw in all my emotional turmoil during a break". This another conversation heavy one.





	Her Relationship with the L-word

**Author's Note:**

> Not proofread, feel free to point out any errors!

She slouches against the arm of your couch and leans her head back. Something in her throat bobs when she swallows hard. Light from the window filters over her body, making her look like a photographed moment, not a moving, breathing being. It couldn’t be comfortable but you don’t want to risk offending her somehow. For the past two hours, you two have been working on a project for statistics class before she calls for a break. There’s nothing you know about her besides that you have mutual friends. Your tongue becomes heavy as you search for something to break the silence.

Out of nowhere, she snaps up from the strenuous position. Your heart skips a beat at the sudden movement but you pretend to spare her a glance snacking on instant ramen.

She asks something, barely above a whisper. You don’t catch it.

“What is your definition of love?”

You swirl your chair towards her with a mouth full of ramen and scratch your head with one hand. You mean to say what but it comes out as a stuffy breath.

She raises her brow. “Swallow and then answer? That works too.”

You roll your eyes before you can stop yourself. Once you swallow, you ask, “That’s a pretty random question. Love troubles?”

She shrugs. “It’s fun to hear what people think about it whether it is platonic love, romantic love, or whatever type of love there is out there.”

“That’s a little weird, but, I’ll entertain you. Platonic love’s easy: it’s the love most people have for their friends and family. Romantic love, it’s weird. I don’t have it figured it out but I figure it’s someone who you can stand to live with—no, someone you want to live with and be in your life for a long time. They make you want to be a better version of yourself but accept you for who you are. Someone you can fart around.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “Someone you can fart around. Oh man, I’ve got to have that on my wall.”

You set the ramen cup down and cross your arms defensively but faint smile on your lips betrays you.

“It’s true! You don’t just fart around strangers. They have to be close. Real close.”

She shakes her hands and rubs her eyes under her glasses. “Hey, I’m not banging on you. To each their own. I’m sure I don’t want to marry my roommate though.”

You take your reading glasses off and set them on the desk and turn to her again with an incredulous expression. “You fart in front of your room mate?”

She beats her chest twice and throws a peace sign at you. “All the time.”

“Where’s the respect?” you accidentally wonder out loud.

“I warned her before we moved into together. And this is our third year rooming so if she was over it, I’m sure she would’ve found something else. That’s not to say she doesn’t try to drop a killer stinker on a whim of vengeance. Then, it is war.”

Ew, this is not a conversation you thought you would be having with a girl that answers a questions a question in five words or less.

Your eyes trace over her physique while thinking, “I didn’t expect this from her.”

Meaty on the bones but well decorated with a gray cardigan and jeans. Her high poofy bun made her face rounder than it was and one dimple was always present when she talked. She looked innocent. Not the overlord of death farts and server of dutch ovens but low and behold. Your tongue feels heavy and you try not to trigger your strong gag reflexes. You needed to change the subject quick and fast.

“How about you?” you asked abruptly, not caring that you were interrupting her.

“Me what?” she asks.

“What do you think about romantic love?”

Without a beat, she answered blankly, “I believe it exists in special cases but I don’t believe in it for me.”

Slinging on hand over the head of your chair, you lean forward. “What do you mean?”

“Which part? Choose wisely for I’ll answer one,” she jokingly warned. Or at least you thought she was joking. This is the most you’ve been able to coax out of her so you were going to milk it for all it’s worth.

“Why don’t you believe in love for yourself?”

She breathes in deeply. She taps her fingers against each other in silence and when you think you’ve overstepped your bounds and open your mouth to call an end to the break, she continues.

“I’m not emotionally in shape for that kind of thing.”

“I mean half the people in relationships aren’t. I think some people need others to help themselves grow,” you chime in.

She scoffs and your jaw goes slack from shock of her reaction. Cynical? That’s a new one.

She answers, “Where are those people now? Those types of relationships usually fall apart. I get that some people need others as initiative to better themselves but I’m not that type of person. I don’t want to feel like I romantically need someone in my life to be happy or to improve myself.”

“Then work on yourself on your own. Maybe there’s something about yourself you’re not seeing?” you suggest, treading carefully. You’re not going to tell someone who is virtually a stranger they might be aromantic. Or if she’s not aromantic and feels her issues are getting in the way of relationships, she could always see a therapist. But you purse your lips so your thought isn’t vocalized.

“What I mean is it just isn’t for me. I’m ‘not okay’. And I’m not talking, ‘this will take a while to get over this’ damage, more of a ‘it’s my personality’ type of damage. I’m not even aromantic. I feel romantic attraction but I’m able to put it out like a light though.”

You don’t know what to say but luckily she continues.

“I wish I was aromantic though, it would keep me from running laps in my head. I constantly think about the future, being in the warm presence of someone but the l-word sickens me.”

 _L-love?_ You stutter in your head.  She’s so sickened she couldn’t even say the world.

“It doesn’t help that I’ve been around a lot of failed marriages and seen enough toxic relationships to know I don’t want to put someone through that. Or have someone put me through that.”

The growl of your stomach interrupts the brief silence but you ignore it. This was getting heavy quick.

“Wow, that’s a lot,” you squeeze out. As soon as the worlds roll of your tongue, you bite your cheek in regret.

She smiles ruefully. “I know. And I wouldn’t have a problem with it because I don’t believe everyone is meant to relationships. For me, my problem is constantly thinking about it.”

She sighs and whispers, “I’m not sure what I want anymore. Do I want companionship or do I want to be alone?”

“You have your whole life to decide,” you point out.

“What if I make the wrong choice? I figure out at the end that I’d rather be alone and I felt like I’ve led that person on? That is so hurtful and it’s straightforward… it’s not me.”

She looks pleadingly into your eyes.

You gulp, your throat feeling parched. “Communication is key. People fall into and out of love or whatever strong feelings they have for another person a lot more than you think. It’s a sticky situation and I don’t have the answers. It depends on the person’s temperament too just like how you won’t react to the same situation as me.”

She twiddles her fingers some more and freezes. “You’re right.”

Her worried eyes turn to a less worried brown color. You’re not sure whether you’re firing shit out your ass or if it’s genuine but it’s working.

She sits up and claps her hands. “Finish your ramen and we’ll get back to work!”

You tilt your head in surprise. “After all that, we’re just going back to the project like nothing happened,” you think but you don’t pursue the topic more. Something tells you what had to be said was said. Later when she leaves your room, she flashes you a bright smile and says “thanks for listening to me, no one had ever asked me that before.”

Before you can say anything, she’s already walking away.

You close the door and let out a long whistle. You understood her just a little more but from what direction?

 “Wow, that was new… a lot for one day.”


End file.
